Jac. Fos. How know you that here, where the genial wind
Ne'er blows in all its blustering freedom?
Lor.'Twas so
When I came here. The galley floats within
A bow-shot of the "Riva di Schiavoni."400
Jac. Fos. Father! I pray you to precede me, and
Prepare my children to behold their father.
Doge. Be firm, my son!
Jac. Fos.I will do my endeavour.
Mar. Farewell! at least to this detested dungeon,